


In me, nothing is extinguished or forgotten

by Salmonellagogo



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Angst, Blood and Injury, Dark Jason Todd, Hurt Bruce Wayne, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:00:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29730090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salmonellagogo/pseuds/Salmonellagogo
Summary: Jason is remaking Bruce.Written for BruJay Week Day 7: Jason is the head of the League of Assassins.
Relationships: Jason Todd/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 4
Kudos: 49
Collections: BruJay Week 2021





	In me, nothing is extinguished or forgotten

**Author's Note:**

> I like the idea that Jason stops aging because of the Lazarus pit. Took that idea and in this fic, Jason's stuck in that hazy canon age when Talia threw him into the pit. The underage tag is there for this reason and for whenever I sit my ass down to expand this fic, because I do want to.
> 
> Posting this one day early because I won't be able to on the day of.

Jason lived a perpetual game of survival in this place, where loyalty was a currency that he didn’t want to bet with. Not when his claim to the title had been earned with no regards of it. He had won it with blood congealing under his nails, soaking into his clothes and left in smudged red tracks under his boots.

He had won, but it had never felt like a victory.

Jason never claimed to be a good person—to be someone his mentor meant him to be, what Bruce wanted him to be. But power was a heady thing by itself--and that's all it was when he looked Bruce in the eyes these days. 

He finally had something over this man. Someone who was finally there when it was already far too late.

The smell of blood was thick in the air. The taste a familiar cloying metal at the back of his tongue. Bruce was injured. Broken arm, shattered bones, open wounds still bleeding freely. A part of Jason wanted to eviscerate whatever it was that hurt Bruce. Another part of him regretted the fact that it hadn't been him who inflicted them. 

Jason had found Bruce and brought him back. His battle had been long done when Jason had seen him lying on the snow like a broken toy. 

Jason had thought Bruce would put up more fight than this, being brought to the League of Assassins' compound. He would, once upon a time. It was probably cavalier of Jason to think Bruce didn’t put up a fight because he _trusted_ Jason. Now that’s a funny thought.

Jason spared Bruce a smile, placed one hand under Bruce’s jaw. Bruce’s skin was cold, clammy. A wheezing sound could be heard with his every breath. He would probably die if Jason had left him out for a little bit longer out in that biting cold. Yet the man still stubbornly remain standing.

“Jason—“

Jason shushed him with a finger to his lips. Bruce was taller than him and he would always be now, with Jason’s body freezed perpetually as an adolescent—the age when he first tasted the vile water of the pit. He stood on his tip toes to replace his finger with a gentle kiss.

The way Bruce hadn't taken his eyes off Jason was new these days and he wanted to keep it that way. When he drew back, the look in Bruce’s eyes was something complicated and Jason had no desire to interpret it. He imagined it wouldn’t have been good, to be kissed like this by someone he raised. And yet this was another thing that made Jason a failure. What he felt for Bruce. How he wanted Bruce.

He slid his hand to the back of Bruce’s neck and pulled the man down to slot his mouth with Bruce properly. Bruce kissed him back, slow and hesitant—this too was something new. He used to just put up with whatever Jason did to him, probably out of misplaced guilt or something he kept to himself. Jason never said he understood how Bruce’s mind worked.

Jason's mouth stretched into a smile when they parted. The way he held Bruce, forcing the man to bow his back to Jason's height was probably painful with his injuries. Yet Bruce didn’t make a sound.

His calm surface was broken by a gasp when Jason’s dagger pierced his stomach.

Jason caressed Bruce’s nape, giving it a tender massage. The dagger was hilt deep. Blood welling up warm and quick when he took the dagger out.

Bruce’s breath was ragged. His skin paler as he let Jason hold him.

“Just the tip. I promise,” Jason said softly, lips moving against Bruce’s cheek.

Jason didn’t tell Bruce what he wanted to do. But he should have an inkling when Jason brought him down to the mountain’s belly. Jason was remade here as Bruce would be soon. The dagger was only to ease the way, to bring Bruce closer to that brink between life and unknown.

“Don't think of this as a revenge, B,” Jason told Bruce, kissed him again on the forehead like a benediction. “I want to save you.”

“Jay..., not—“

“Shush. You told me once that you would die for me. This is better. And you said you would give me what I wanted. This is what I want and I will be there for you, after, even though you never did for me.”

Bruce stopped speaking then and Jason thought he saw tears in Bruce’s eyes. Or it might just be sweat.

It’s so easy to hold up a hand to Bruce’s chest and _push_.

“Come back to me, B,” Jason said.

Bruce didn’t take his eyes off Jason even as the green water closed over his head.

* * *

Bruce came back to him that evening.

The pit madness did not spare him. It would be worse for Bruce, Jason thought. Jason as a teen hadn't been the most well adjusted when Talia had dumped him into the Lazarus pit, but Bruce kept more demons inside him than a teenage boy could. 

Bruce was crying when he emerged. Green liquid dripped from the end of his hair. His skin was pale like silk, unsullied by the scars that had shaped him into what he had been. 

He was remade anew. 

Jason walked down to the pool, waist deep until he reached Bruce. Bruce was shivering, hiding his face in his hands. 

Jason shushed him with softly spoken words, knowing full well Bruce wasn't altogether present. Not yet. But Jason would fix him. 

He told Bruce that much as he pulled Bruce's hands away gently and kissed the corner of his lips. 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda.


End file.
